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"What time is she going to call you?" Her abuelita asks as she hovers over a pot cooking on the stove.
It's the weekend, Sunday being the one-day off for Nunie this week and of course, her parents decide it's a good day to check in on Nunie. She hasn't spoken to them in over a month—they haven't texted or called up until this point and while she's spoken to her brother, Nasir, it's only been through text so, Nunie has assumed they'd been too busy to really call or talk. Nunie sits in the kitchen, on the small woven chair beside the dresser, her knee bouncing anxiously as she watches her abuelita add a few more sprinkles of spice to the pot.
"Mom said she'd call me in like ten minutes, I don't know," Nunie says, her voice shaking slightly because she doesn't know what her parents will ask her; she can't even prepare for something like this because her mother had only given her a ten-minute notice, now it's running to fifteen minutes and every minute she waits adds more stress.
"It'll be fine, mija," her abuelita says, moving around a few of her mixing bowls to free up some counter space, "tell her you got a job, you're in school, and you're considering your, um—opciones (options)."
"What if that isn't good enough for her?"
"Tienes dieciocho años, Natalia. Creo que lo estás haciendo bien por ahora (You're eighteen, Natalia. I think you're doing just fine for right now)." Her abuelita shakes her head.
"No entiendes (you don't understand) abuelita, w-when Mom f-found out, she didn't s-speak to me for four days."
"Nunca me gusto (I never liked her)," her abuelita waved her hand dismissively with a slight scoff.
"Abuelita," Nunie sighs.
"Sí, sí (yes, yes), I know, I'm sorry, but the way she treats you, mija," her abuelita says and Nunie can hear the raw emotion in her voice. "I just wish she could be here for you—to support you."
Nunie stays quiet because she knew even if her mother were here, Nunie knows she would never support her—not in the way Nunie needs it at least. It's a tough pill to swallow, but Nunie had chewed it up and ate it years ago once she realized her mother was set in her ways—never going to change. It was always Nasir first and Nunie second because Nunie was the second child, rebellious and eager to stand out—resorting to alcohol, drugs, and partying to get her parents' attention.
Just to feel even an ounce of their love.
Growing up, she was pressured to be perfect—to do everything right. While her brother was given the freedom to explore his creativity and pursue becoming an artist, Nunie was forced to pick a respectable career and stick to it. While her brother was able to go out with friends and stay out late at night without any curfew, Nunie was forced to stay home—study, read, focus on her studies—barely having any time for her own social life.
